Let's Kill Tonight
by EllesBeth MidnightSparrow
Summary: Blaine Anderson is, and always will be, a cannibal.  What happens when Kurt is his lover, and has a special gift?  !Regenerator Kurt !CanniBlaine !KillerBlaine Gore and smut ensue.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** My first CaniBlaine ever. Let me know if I'm doing anything right!

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the incredibly supermegafoxyawesomehot characters. All rights to those who own them!

**Rating:** M for GRAPHIC MURDER and smut scene. CHARACTER DEATH! DO NOT LIKE, DO NOT READ!

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><p>Blaine groaned into his pillow, hearing Pavarotti twittering in his cage for what seemed like the millionth time that early Saturday morning. His muscular arms lifted his torso off of the bed, attempting to shake the sleep from his head. The air in his particularly large Dalton dorm room was both clear and chilled by the ongoing rain outside the window.<p>

"I swear I'm going to eat that bird if it doesn't shut up," Blaine said, rubbing the small amount of scruff on his chin. Another form stirred in the queen-sized bed. The weary form of Kurt Hummel rose with a small chuckle.

"Oh shush! You know you wouldn't enjoy it anyway, so leave the poor thing alone," the countertenor said, walking in nothing but his briefs to the bathroom. The sheets on the bed around Kurt were stained with blood, a rusty smell clinging to the fabric as Blaine threw the bedding in a wastebasket. The memories of last night made a fuzzy feeling settle in Blaine's chest. So much blood, sweat, his mouth ripping, and above all else, a blissful frenzy of teeth and hunger.

He had been so happy, finding Kurt, and finding out his special gift. It had actually been an accident, in the time when Blaine was still hiding his true personality, and being as dapper as possible.

They had been making out on Blaine's bed, and things were growing heated. The brown-haired boy had just looked so innocent, lying there panting like an overheated dog under Blaine's form. Before he knew it, Blaine had dug his perfect teeth into the younger boy's shoulder. Immediately the tang of blood had filled his mouth, flesh torn and gaping at his doing. He was about to continue, when Blaine noticed the wound stitching itself slowly back together. Kurt had been silent as the lesion shrank into nothing but a shimmery scar. Blaine couldn't find the words, as Kurt had quietly told him about the condition he'd had since he was very small. No matter what the wound was, how much blood was lost, it would heal. Kurt was a regenerator. Blaine had immediately apologized for the bite, looking a bit sheepish.

"Okay, but why did you do that? I mean, I loved every second of it, and it was so hot. But it was a little more than a love-nibble," Kurt had asked.

"Well, don't judge, but I enjoy it, tasting the flesh. I guess I'm a cannibal, but ever since I was a kid, I've loved it," Blaine paused, "But, you actually liked me biting you?"

". . . Hell yes! I mean, I didn't figure you would be rough at all with me. You being such a gentleman and all, so I didn't figure I would have to tell you about my. . .ability."

Blaine had beamed at the boy, saying that he hadn't wanted to scare off the countertenor with his little need. They had agreed on that day, five months ago, to be together, and never tell their secret to anyone, no matter what. Of course Blaine still needed to find different ways to obtain his fix without permanently ending Kurt's life, but Kurt allowed for basically everything else.

As far as he knew, no one else had a clue, none at Dalton, none at McKinley. As far as everyone else knew, Kurt and Blaine still hadn't had sex, which was not the case.

Blaine joined Kurt in the bathroom, giving Kurt an affectionate kiss, interrupting him from scrubbing the caked-on blood off of his chest and face. Kurt submitted willingly, someone finally accepted him for himself, all of him. Who was he to demand who it was?

Blaine broke the kiss, beginning to brush his teeth, whitening the stains from blood and gristle.

"I'm going to find something to eat tonight, I'm so hungry," Blaine said, glancing in the mirror to Kurt, "Will you go with me? All you need to do is stand there, I take care of everything else."

"I don't know, Blaine, I don't know about watching you actually. . ._kill _someone," Kurt said, visibly shuddering.

"Baby, we need to overcome this at some point. Every time I've eaten someone, all I can think of is you. I need you to be with me, it would make the experience that much more enjoyable. Please, for me?" he batted those pools of brown at Kurt, turning his triangular eyebrows up in a begging expression.

Kurt gave a small grin, no way those eyes could go denied.

"Alright, but I can leave if I catch a whiff of anything out of the normal, okay?" Blaine crushed him in a monstrous hug as assurance.

Then it was planned, that night they would go to Blaine's typical hunting grounds, an abandoned barn in rural Lima served nicely. It was a Saturday, so there was no possibility of being seen. The victim was already there, unconscious and bound to a wooden post in the center of the dirt floor. The both of them entered the darkened barn in silence. Kurt was nervous, as was expected, and he had put on his bravest face for Blaine.

The curly-haired boy was in an entirely different mentality. He gazed shiftily, his eyes glinting in the dimmed moonlight. Every muscle was quaking for this predatory felling, dominance in every step.

Kurt was the first to speak up.

"So, who is it?"

"I figured I'd want this to be special, so I picked up a certain Miss Rachel Berry, just for tonight," Blaine growled, circling around the small figure like a panther.

"Wow, really?"

"You aren't mad? She was one of your friends, after all," Blaine said, sliding a smooth hand down the young girl's face.

"Well, yeah. . .once, but I don't really feel anything toward her anymore. She was more of a nuisance than anything else," Kurt said with a small, reassuring smile.

Blaine could already feel the blood rushing to his nether-regions. He needed to make this quick, so that he would be sated enough to be able to fuck that blue-eyed wonder into next week.

With a menacing crunch, Rachel Berry's neck began to bleed profusely. The red, warm, sticky spray coated the Warbler's face and open mouth like a hot shower. The girl stirred, awaking and beginning to whimper and scream while Blaine tore and ripped into the warm flesh. Mouthful after mouthful passed through his lips while Rachel screamed and tried pathetically to struggle. In a matter of minutes she fell out of consciousness again, just as Blaine was tearing a rather substantial portion of her upper thigh, chuckling deeply. Unfortunately, it came out as a cut-off gurgle.

"Aw, is the little princess falling asleep? The ball has just begun," Blaine said sadistically, smearing his bloody hand down her porcelain cheek. It almost looked like bloody tears.

"Sorry, but your prince won't be here to wake you up," Blaine continued, "What was that oaf's name? Finn? Yes, he won't be here."

Kurt stared dully at the scene, watching his boyfriend with awe. He looked so powerful, and Kurt was incredibly turned on by this. The blood and sweat steamed off of the Warbler's body from the cool air. His breath clouded and wafted through the space.

Kurt felt his legs carrying him closer to the dark-haired boy. The hazel eyes stared back up at him, the crimson stains about that face heightening the color of those orbs.

Despite the sated expression on his face, there was still a sense of a primal hunger lingering. Kurt could feel a tinge of it in himself, though it was only for Blaine.

With a small amount of hesitance, he stooped low, and touched those reddened lips with his own.

A jolt of electricity shot through Kurt's system, setting his skin aflame. Blaine wriggled his tongue low under his teeth, embracing the countertenor's tongue with slow lapping. A noise escaped the taller boy, a breathy moan, escalating into a contented sigh.

Blaine smiled against the lips, knowing Kurt could taste all of the blood, and all of Blaine.

"W-We should stop, Blaine, the body-"

"Let her lie, let's go to the hayloft. I need you. . .now!" Blaine yanked Kurt up and guided him away from the mangled body of Rachel. She was still now, no breath escaped her lips, no teenage quirkiness graced her features. Rachel Berry was no more.

The two boys scaled the rickety ladder hastily. The hay smelled a bit musty, but clean enough while Kurt laid down on it, giving a sultry glance at Blaine. He slowly undid the buttons to his shirt, and smirked as Blaine palmed his own erection through the material of his slacks.

All across Kurt's chest, small pale purple scars littered his skin, some covering a majority of his abdomen and navel. But one, the largest, was a purple scar, spreading in a criss-cross pattern right over the left side of his chest. Blaine placed a heated hand over the tense skin, fondling the life and wonderful feeling of his lover.

"I remember this one," Blaine said with a slightly dopey grin, tracing the line with his index finger fondly. Kurt squirmed slightly under the scrutiny, but repressed the feeling to move further.

"Me too, that was one of our first times. You almost ripped out my heart, you know," Kurt said, purring into the touch, gazing up at the shorter boy with a heated intensity.

"You were so hot, I couldn't resist you, just like now," Blaine said, thrusting into Kurt's abdomen shallowly, eliciting a moan from the younger boy. Blaine relished in the noises and praise Kurt would give, he drank it all in.

In one motion, Blaine had Kurt pinned under him, his mouth taunting the old scar once again.

"Let's see what we can do tonight, eh little spoon?" Blaine said, grazing his teeth against the flesh. He sunk the pearly whites deeply into the porcelain flesh, digging and digging until he hit bone. More blood spurted, as Kurt let out a moan and small screams of both pain and pleasure. The wound began to re-stitch while their clothed erections ground together, lust and sweat heating the still chilled air. Blaine took this moment to unbuckle Kurt's pants, grabbing his manhood roughly and savoring the drawn-out moan that escaped from his lips. He pumped Kurt slowly, the blood slicking his hand and easing the act greatly. Kurt writhed and bucked at the touch, whimpering when Blaine removed his hand, unhooking his own trousers and pulling them down to his knees.

"Do you need to be prepared?" Blaine asked, already lining up with Kurt's backside.

"No, it will…heal," Kurt reassured, his breath hitching while the newly spilled blood congealed on his chest.

In one motion, he was buried up to the hilt, Kurt screamed his pleasure, feeling the blood already on his backside. Blaine began to move, slow and tedious at first, building up until they were both panting and moaning.

Blaine lapped and sucked at the fresh blood, cleaning his lover while defiling him. In a few moments, they were both coming undone, Kurt arching his back while Blaine thrusted deeply a few more times, rolling his hips and collapsing onto the boy. He pulled out slowly, reveling in the gasp of pain Kurt expelled into the air.

"Oh my Gaga, that was so," Kurt said.

"Hot," Blaine finished, caressing his lover's cheek, seeing and loving the new addition to his collection of scars.

"We should probably get rid of. . .her," Kurt motioned down to the eternally sleeping body of Rachel Berry.

"Yes, she'll get stiff, soon," he turned back to his tired boyfriend, "I love you, thank you for doing this."

"I love you, too," Kurt groaned as he got up, "I may be able to heal, but it still burns like hell."

"Hm, that sounds marvelous, I'll make sure to continue once we get back to my dorm."

With a sigh they both went back down the ladder to pick up the pieces to Blaine's sadistic little game.

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><p>AN: I'm still deciding if I still want this to continue. Tell me if you want it to! Reviews are appreciated and loved.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So, I apologize for the long wait, but I needed to figure out how this was going to go. I appreciate all of you that favorited this story! I logged onto my email and saw all of the messages, it made me happy to know that you all are liking it! I also love all of you that gave me insight as to how I am to make this happen, it helped me get over some major questions I've been afraid to ask. I resolved to not necessarily make this a continuous plot, but more of stories while there is some time jumps. I may have two or three chapters that link together, but I will give proper warnings for those instances. I don't know how long this will continue, but I really love reviews. Like REALLY love reviews. This chapter, I decided I needed to give a little more backstory as to the whole basis of Kurt's powers, so that may fill in some gaps. I focused on plot, since I know smut scenes can be a little. . . taxing, at least for me.**

**Rating: M for more gore and a smut scene. Oh, and another character dies, so. . . if you are not inclined to this, leave, posthaste!**

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><p>Staring up into the moon, it was so beautiful. It shed transparent light through the slats of the barn's wood walls. It was full, the moon, deep, distant and a glaring eye at the two boys. The both of them sat side-by-side on the windowsill. One was drenched in the smell and dark tint of blood, his eyes blown wide and bulging.<p>

He seemed to be having a staring contest with the eye in the sky, only blinking to turn to the boy beside him. Their hands clasped tightly in the warm air.

"Oh, look, fireflies," the boy next to him said, pointing down to the brush. Very faintly, small lights blinked through the weeds like quiet stars. The bloody boy was astounded, it took him a lot of concentration to see the small things and yet here, his boyfriend of one year, stared nonchalantly into the night.

"Yeah, they sure are pretty," Blaine remarked, running a hand through the chestnut locks before him. Kurt stiffened slightly, the strong and overwhelming scent of blood wafting up his nose.

Since Blaine had showed him that first kill, Rachel Berry, half a year ago, he had assumed it would get easier. He had felt that rush while Blaine kissed him, touched him with those tainted hands. But, lately, he had been warier than ever of his boyfriend's actions. Blaine had been growing increasingly dissatisfied with his victims.

New scars littered Kurt's skin every day, and he was finding it harder to get Blaine to calm down. The wild look in his eyes appeared more and more often. Just now, Blaine had finished off some nameless man, and he had the most crazed look, such a hungry gaze. Kurt was attempting to direct him away from that at the moment.

The loving boy seemed to be fading before his eyes, and it hurt him to see that.

"Kurt," Blaine said suddenly, Kurt's heart jumped at the sound of his name.

"Yeah, Blaine?"

"Let's get out of here, go to my dorm? It is a Friday, so everyone's gone home for the weekend" he said, the need in his voice cracking through the indifferent tone.

Kurt gave a weak nod and went to wait in the air conditioned splendor of the car while Blaine disposed of the body.

In spite of all these disheartening facts, he could not, would not leave Blaine. He was the only human being, aside from his dad, that accepted him, even loved him in spite of it. He still remembered the day when some elementary school ruffians were taking turns shoving a young Kurt into a wall. Each time came harder. His brain rattled and pounded inside his skull painfully. One particularly hard shove grated his hand and lower arm across the stucco siding, causing the boys to stop while the blood and mangled skin became prevalent as Kurt cradled his arm defensively. Through all of the laughter and his tears, he hadn't bothered to cover and hide the mending qualities to his skin. Moments passed, and Kurt stood shakily, rolling the sleeve down on his brand-new, baby-like skin. All the blood still stained his clothes, but the boys had stared with a mixture of disgust or terror. They had backed away, their eyes bulging while they beat a hasty retreat.

No one had told the teachers about his _"gift", _but Kurt had sworn to himself to never, ever, allow anyone to find out about it.

"They'll dig into 'ya," Kurt remembered his father telling him as he sat on the sofa, crying softly, "You just need to not let 'em get you down. Let your true personality shine through, show them how amazing and talented you are. . .alright?"

A very pregnant pause followed while Kurt sniffled into a tissue.

"Make your mother proud, Kurt."

Kurt only shook his head, giving a reassuring smile while Burt gave a slightly awkward hug.

"She was like me, right Dad?"

"Yes, well. . .you probably got most of you looks from her. . . Oh, your. . .abilities? Yes, she had a particular. . .knack for this type of thing. I tell 'ya, she could even get rid of little scrapes that I had, too. She was a piece of work, that she was," he had had a fond and distant gleam in his eye. Kurt stared back in awe and wonder.

"Wow, she could even get rid of hurts on you? Wow, Dad! I hope I can be as strong as she was," Kurt proclaimed, happy thoughts swirling in his head. But now had a sad expression plastered on his face.

"Kurt, kiddo, I don't want you using you power, except on yourself. I know you want to be like Mom, but I want you to be safe, for now. Can you promise me, Kurt?"

"Yes, Dad," Kurt murmured solemnly, not wanting to cause his father any trouble.

Now that Kurt was under oath, he had to survive through middle school and high school, trying to be as unaware as possible that something was pumping through his veins, coated and embedded in his very DNA that made him differ from everyone else in his school.

Being gay hadn't helped his attempt at normalcy either, to tell you the truth. The caste and hierarchy of high school was absolute. If you don't want to rise to the top, you were destined to sink lower, becoming cemented into some social group or pool of like-minded beings. Kurt was fine, being with the people who accepted him, though he never dared to tell any soul his even deeper secret. There was no telling how raging teenage hormones mixed with the shock of finding out your friend was some sort of healing magician. Kurt didn't bother to guess the outcomes.

Kurt reasoned that being shoved into a locker because of his sexuality was far better than being ostracized for his secret. In the meantime, he could remain happy with his boyfriend. Despite his cravings for flesh.

Kurt was jolted from his lingering thoughts by the hooded figure of Blaine emerging finally from the barn. They couldn't stay here much longer, not if they didn't want to get caught. Out in the country, people either forgot about things quickly, or picked them up just as quick.

Blaine gave a dazzling smile, Kurt contained a shudder, seeing a dab of blood on the Warbler's lip.

Pulling Kurt into a kiss, Blaine deepened it to the point where Kurt broke away with that blood smudged down and onto his tongue. It tasted strangely sweet and bitter, metallic and heated while he swallowed. Blaine chuckled, switching the car out of park and speeding down and out onto the paved road. Blaine kept peering at Kurt from the corner of his eye, Kurt glanced at the windshield, wanting to be lost in thought.

"What're you thinking about?" Blaine asked, a knowing smirk playing on his features. Kurt shifted and lifted his eyes to meet those hazel orbs.

"Nothing. . .us, or everything, actually," Kurt felt his fingers become entwined with Blaine's. The calloused fingers grasping his slender ones.

"That's good, I kind of was, too." Blaine released Kurt's hand and began to fish for something in his pants pocket. Kurt couldn't help but cock an eyebrow as a brass shimmer glinted in the light of the clock and radio.

"It's nothing, really, just a little trinket," Blaine said meekly, putting a brilliantly intricate pocket watch into Kurt's lap. Kurt's jaw hit the floor, remembering Blaine using it occasionally at Warbler's practice. The gift made his heart warm, and he found himself hugging Blaine, his hands cuddling the adorable and irresistible man before him.

"Blaine, I love you."

"I love you, too, Kurt. I love you so much," Blaine said with a sincere look in his eyes, and Kurt could tell that he only wanted to be with this man.

Kurt ground his hips furiously upward into the already unclothed abdomen above him. Blaine moaned and growled into the kiss that was all tongue and passion. In one movement, Kurt's mouth flooded with blood, his tongue continuing to wrangle with Blaine's. The curly-haired boy sucked, making small, happy sounds as the liquid life dribbled down their chins.

Kurt yelped and writhed even more at the painful display, and he tried to calm Blaine, who was currently working off both of their underpants.

Without warning, Blaine pressed a finger hard and fast inside of Kurt, causing the boy under him to absolutely come undone at it. Another finger followed, and Kurt could feel the fight and energy in him draining at the force that was Blaine Anderson. With a flash of white teeth, Kurt's upper neck sprayed and slicked their bodies with the cascading blood. Though Kurt lost consciousness for a few moments, he regained it to find his eyes wide and intense. Adrenaline surging and bucking with all abandon, Blaine cackled into Kurt's neck at the sight. All this time, he had been tearing and drinking straight from Kurt.

Kurt couldn't help it, whenever he'd get injuries this bad, his nervous system sent all of his instincts into overdrive, and he couldn't calm down for hours. Blaine seemed to know this, and used it to his advantage, keeping Kurt in his bed for the duration of the time.

"Oh. God!" Kurt yelped out, feeling the fingers come out and something much harder and thicker replace it. Blaine grunted, directing Kurt to lift his hips, and grasp the headboard. Kurt did so until his knuckles were white with frustration and anxiety.

"Go!" Kurt exclaimed, and with that assurance, Blaine buried him up to the base. Kurt shrieked, the muscles conforming around the thick member.

"So. Fucking. Tight." Blaine said, beginning to slowly thrum and thrust with pleasure, the spilt blood heating up and slicking their bodies anew. Grunts and growls spilled out of Blaine like his own language, conveying all of the words he couldn't say to Kurt. Kurt could only suppose what he was wanting to say.

"I'm so close, babe," Blaine said, thrusting and rolling his hips with sharp snaps as he did it once, twice, and came hard into his lover. A few moments later, Kurt followed with a high whine and all muscles tensed. They collapsed into a sweating heap, the air heated and hazy with lust and fresh blood.

"Baby," Blaine said, cupping Kurt's cheek and watching intently as the wounds he made were disappearing slowly.

"Yeah, Blaine?"

"I want you to come and watch next week again. Meet me next Wednesday? I promise you'll like this one, okay?" Blaine had the sweetest and most convincing gaze that it was almost impossible to say anything at all, let alone something discouraging.

"O-Okay, it's a date, then," Kurt said with a little giggle, trying to cover up the twinge of intrigue of who the victim will be.

That Wednesday, Kurt pulled up to the regular, decrepit barn and felt the butterflies collecting in his stomach. Blaine's car was already there, parked behind a grove of trees and out of the view of anyone that would pull in. Kurt followed suit, parking his car next to Blaine's.

Kurt attempted to calm his fidgeting fingers, wringing them uselessly as he slowly swung the barn door open. The dark shadows inside cloaked the figure of Blaine. The victim was against the beam again, and Kurt strained to see who it was. Blaine saw Kurt and sauntered over, grabbing him around the waist and giving him a small peck on the cheek. The blood was already staining his lips, and Kurt could only imagine how long he had been here. From the whimpers across the room, he guessed it had been awhile.

"Go on, take a look, babe," Blaine whispered hoarsely, guiding him over to the figure. With a slow, sinking feeling, he stared down into the face of Dave Karofsky, who was now blubbering into his torn letterman's jacket. Kurt felt no emotion, only stared densely at the jock.

"Isn't it just exhilarating!" Blaine said almost gleefully, "It took me quite some time, but I finally got him!"

Kurt backed away, clutching his sides with a bewildered look on his face.

Karofsky was really the target? Oh god! What was he going to do?

"B-Blaine. . .I don't want to see this," Kurt said, hoping he didn't offend Blaine too badly. He absolutely despised Karofsky, but he couldn't picture himself killing his bully. Tears beaded the corners of his eyes, and he pulled back further.

Blaine looked slightly confused, the smile was still plastered onto his face, but his eyebrows were scrunched together.

"B-But I thought. . .this would help. Kurt, you've got to be joking, you must not be thinking clearly. Come on, he can't hurt you anymore," the Warbler said, reaching out to take Kurt's hand but finding Kurt unwilling to.

Kurt just shook his head, still looking horrified.

Blaine looked from Kurt, to Karofsky, then his gaze settled on his feet. A dangerous air transpired in the cool summer air.

"Kurt, don't tell me that you feel for this. . .monster," Blaine spat, turning his attention away from the jock and facing Kurt fully, "He's shoved you down so many times and what do you do? Stand back up and ask for it again."

These words stung, but he still said nothing, closing his eyes and hoping this wasn't happening. In that split second, he heard a strangled noise, Blaine giving a yell and the thumping of a body on the dusty barn floor. Kurt opened his eyes, and screamed.

Karofsky's bindings were sawed off, and he was on top of Blaine, yelling and choking him. It was like watching a bear smother a deer, and Blaine scrabbled and yelped in pain. Kurt felt tears pour down his face, his eyes locking on a large Swiss army knife in the dust a few feet away, the tip bloodied and wicked looking.

There were no thoughts going through Kurt's head, except:

Blaine is hurt.

Blaine is _hurt._

_Blaine is hurting._

Help.

Knife.

Get him.

_Get him._

_Stab._

The blood flowed and at first Karofsky didn't notice, continuing to press all of his bodyweight onto the smaller boy, who was now making strangled noises out of his crushed windpipe.

_Stab._

Karofsky reared back, clutching at his back and shoulders, getting tangled up in the man under him, that he fell over, screaming and yelling for someone. Kurt tried to contain his rage.

_Stab._

It didn't work, a grimace contorted his face while Karofsky tried to shield himself, still screaming angrily. Blaine sat motionless, and Kurt brought his hand down harder, faster. He could feel the blood pumping and thrumming in his ears, but his fingers were surprisingly numb. His mind felt distant.

_Stab, stab, stab, stab._

With a strangled and angry yell, Kurt brought the knife down one more time. He felt exhausted and out of breath, but Karofsky didn't move or open his eyes. He was laid in a slumped heap, the flesh of his neck mangled and his back still seeping his life into the floorboards. Kurt stared at the knife for a moment, before tossing it next to the body and scrambling to Blaine's side. He understood. Karofsky had hidden the knife in his pocket, and Blaine hadn't been as thorough with his checking routine. Typically Blaine searched his victims top to bottom, but the knife must have slipped by his scrutiny. This was a mistake, a fatal one that resulted in Blaine bleeding and almost crushed on the ground.

Kurt felt the tears come harder, and he wiped hurriedly so that he could address Blaine's injuries.

"Blaine. . . BLAINE! Answer me, where are we right _now_?" Kurt said, his fingers shaking with the buttons on Blaine's jacket. He lost his patience, and simply ripped until the fabric gave and the wound lay out in front of him. Blaine's eyelids fluttered as Kurt prodded the small incision near his collarbone, seeing a small amount of blood ooze out. Kurt swore to himself.

Blaine made a small noise, cut off and gravely.

"What, what is that?" Kurt was trying to think of what to do. They couldn't take him to a hospital, not covered in Karofsky's blood and half-dead. They would see through any bluff or lie in an instant, it would be suicide. Even if they could, Blaine wouldn't make the trip in this state.

"I-I. . .you, did. . .I'm so happy," Blaine stammered in between shallow breaths, a slightly lopsided smile falling onto his face.

"I know, just stay still," Kurt said with frustration, the wound was too deep. There was no way-

_Heal him._

The thought stopped his frantic mind like ice, his eyes still wide and fearful. A heart stopping calm fell over him, every second seemed like an eternity. He gingerly placed both of his hands over the wound, his fingers pressing slowly into the toned skin of his lover. All of the pain and terror he felt collected and dissipated down in his gut. A strange tingling spread in pulsing waves. He didn't know a thing about what to do, but he could only guess that touching the wound had to have some effect.

'_Okay, Kurt, focus,' _he thought, giving a slight pressure.

He could feel the tingling and the waves building up, damming in his fingers and begging to be let out. Blaine gave a shaky breath, his chest rising less often. Kurt had half a mind to give up, but he knew he couldn't.

'_There has to be something,' _he exasperated at himself, lifting his hands off of Blaine for a moment.

It happened in a flash. Suddenly, all of those little pricks of pressure flew, flowed out of his fingertips. Kurt arched his back, willing every ounce of his power into that cut. He could feel it working, stitching and restoring every speck of lost blood, flesh and muscle torn or spilled. With a small spark, the wound closed with no sign of it actually being there. Blaine groaned, and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He blinked, seeing Kurt stooped over him, he stiffened, brushing the loose strands out of Kurt's eyes. Sweat poured down his face and he knew he'd used too much of his energy.

"Kurt-"

"You're back, thank god you're back," Kurt sobbed into Blaine's shoulder as he cradled his body while he broke down. He was spent, but he breathed into his, now alive and well, boyfriend, wanting to ingrain his memory and every part of him with the scent of Blaine. Blaine continued to cradle him, feeling the hole in his dress-shirt where the small blade pierced him. He understood.

"You. . .healed me, h-how?" Blaine said slowly, the weariness prevalent in both of their bodies.

"Luck, Blaine, a boatload of goddamn luck," Kurt breathed, feeling the world close around him. Only Blaine seemed framed in his vision while the rest of it faded out.

"No, just enough of you, Kurt," Blaine's eyes locked with his, and everything else blacked out, "It was just you."

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you kindly for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello all! Sorry for this being so late, but I will upload again within the next week! I must, before I start taking classes. It blows that the summer is almost over, though it's sweltering here. Please tell me if this chapter is alright, I'm making a sister chapter as I speak, and that will be up soon.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. Glee goes to Ryan Murphy/Fox Network and all the rest of those involved!**

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><p>Blaine gave up. He'd given up long ago, but at least he was finally admitting it to himself. It's true, he found most things with a pulse intriguing, but he found his boyfriend, Kurt Hummel, <em>his<em> Kurt, to be a special wonder and anomaly in this abysmal world. It's true, he had fallen deeper into his desires and hurt his love, but now he understood what it was like to be more than carnal, more than what he was becoming. He was a cannibal, and he loved it, he felt free and open and he had no regrets for it. But Kurt was not, and Blaine couldn't change that. But he had killed another human, Kurt had taken a dangerous taste of something forbidden in today's society. Blaine couldn't protect him from that, since it was Kurt that had done the deed himself. Blaine, or course, was unable to do a thing, considering he had had a knife thrusted into his side, not exactly a "boo-boo." Kurt had never looked more beautiful, more stunning or powerful, flexing his arm and delivering fate to that sweaty menace of a jock.

He had always respected and loved Kurt for himself, and accepted his power, but this was a new side to Kurt that Blaine had never seen. It was foreign and unheard of to Blaine. Frankly, it had turned Blaine on quite a bit, to think of Kurt taking life, in control and dolling punishment to the buffoon that'd wronged him. Blaine had made a mental note to stash the image away for later use.

_Apparently Kurt had not been expecting himself to be doing something along those lines either. On their ride home that night, Kurt had cried all the way. They ended up stopping alongside the road, in their separate vehicles, and Kurt had allowed Blaine to come and sit in Kurt's car while Kurt cried. The tears had illuminated his face, creating an unearthly glow to his eyes and cheeks._

_"Why?" Kurt had sniffled, gasping for air and attempting to wipe the tears from his leaking eyes._

_"Why what, Kurt?" Blaine had replied in the calmest tome he could muster._

_"Why did I- Why am I alive? I've thought and tried to figure it out. . .so much," Kurt stared out the window, giving up and letting the tears course down in rivulets._

_"No, Kurt. Don't you even, don't doubt yourself! Back there? You know what happened back there?" Blaine didn't wait for an answer, "You saved me, just by being yourself. I'm alive because of you. You are the most precious thing to me and you just defended what we have."_

_He clasped the other male's hand tighter, as if it would disappear or turn to dust if he were to let go._

_Kurt just let more tears come, but a small smile graced his features. They thought it would be best to finish driving to talk, and so then Blaine followed closely behind Kurt to his house. He needed to make sure his boyfriend was taken care of. As he pulled into the Hummel driveway, Blaine noticed Finn staring out a window, almost glowering down at them. Blaine panicked. He rolled down his window, addressing Kurt as he was getting out of his own vehicle._

_"Does he know-"_

_"No, no, of course not. He's just. . .brooding. He does that a lot, nowadays," Kurt said, clearing his face until it was free of any stress and sorrow. A calmer smile was placed on, while Blaine's brow fused together._

_"Wonder why," Blaine commented, leaning in to kiss Kurt softly, reassuringly and gave a wave to Burt, who was opening the front door to wait for Kurt. A proud grin escaped the older man's worn exterior._

_"I haven't the slightest," Kurt flat-out lied, giving thanks to Blaine for a good night. Kind of._

_Kurt knew exactly why Finn stared out the window, and refused to come out of his room, and no longer put up with his friends._

_Rachel._

_That day, when Rachel's body had been found, was easily the most emotional day for Finn. He had cried just as hard as Rachel's dads. The Glee club was struck hard, and practice was cancelled for a whole week, while everyone was either constantly teary-eyed, or in shock. Kurt hadn't gone to the funeral, claiming sickness, but Finn remained at Rachel's grave well into the night, coming back and not speaking a work to a person. He'd withdrawn from everyone, committing less and less to the Glee club. So much so that he simply faded into the background. While Quinn had made an attempt to be kind and accepting towards Finn, she ended the short relationship when she had forced a kiss on him. Finn apparently screamed at her, and stormed out._

_Kurt knew all of this, and yet all that he could do was smile and admit nothing to Blaine. Blaine didn't need to know, so for now Kurt could only wait it out. His boyfriend didn't need the ghosts of his decisions returning to haunt him when Blaine had school and the Warblers to think about. Guilt was something that just didn't fit into the plan and grand scheme of things._

_Blaine pulled out of the driveway, returning back to Dalton for the weekend._ Kurt had waited until everyone was asleep to let more tears come, expelling all of the overwhelming emotions conflicting him at the moment. The pair had allowed the topic of that night with Karofsky to drop, Kurt expressing that it was fine and that he still accepted Blaine, if the Warbler was willing to do the same. Of course, Blaine had agreed.

* * *

><p>The next couple of weeks after Karofsky's body was not found, Kurt and Blaine were out having coffee, with Tina, Mike and Mercedes.<p>

"Oh my god," Tina said, staring at her smartphone, "did you hear about that case in California? Apparently the police caught a cannibal and a couple of other weird people. A young dude and his wife, she's able to do something with her body," Tina sounded disgusted, and Mercedes stopped stirring her coffee.

Kurt tried not to bristle at the news, cocking an eyebrow and muttering a _'wow' _for effect.

"Wow, indeed. Hey, is the article on your phone? Could I read it?" Blaine said calmly, taking the device and allowed Kurt to read with him.

It read that Brian Kremsey, age 32, was arrested by authorities last night on accounts of screaming heard by neighbors. The police had thought it was the wife, but she said nothing to incriminate him. They would've been let off of the hook, if the police hadn't seen the journal of Mr. Kremsey laying on a nightstand. It had been an in-depth account of every victim and confessions going back as far as five years. With a search warrant, they found out Mr. Kremsey's dubbed "condition," and had taken him into custody.

While the wife, Rosemary Kremsey, hadn't said a word, the officers found in the diary a mention of his wife having the capabilities of withdrawing pain from her body. Though there was no exact description as to the origins of her powers, the article was discreet and to the point. Kurt felt his grip on Blaine's jacket tighten as it told of how they were both being tried for heavy charges and most likely being sent to a special, maximum security prison. Blaine simply passed the phone to Mercedes and gave a long exhale.

"Glad they've finally gotten another one," Tina said, obvious repulsion in her tone, "It's been a long while since anything like this has happened."

Kurt felt his heart sink deeper into his chest at these words. Though babies born with special or different habits or abilities were normally not spotted by doctors right away or not spotted at all, it was normal for a person with abilities to be found out, whether through some sort of criminal act, or just on their own. There were those that were criminals, or did things that people didn't like, and those individuals would pay dearly for it. Some were sent to high security prison, some were sent into hiding and never heard from again, forced to take aliases by the government's doing or simply put on death row and scooted to the front of those lines. Either way, the government and a majority of the public made crystal clear that their intent was to make sure that anyone with powers were not accepted or looked upon with dignity. There were specific members of the government that did attempt to fight for the rights of people like, well, Blaine and Kurt. This only seemed to make things worse, and so the topic arose very few times. Very few pieces of legislature have been passed, since even fewer studies have been started on this subject. It does seem, though, that everyone is still trying to forget about it, and hope that it will just go away. Part of Kurt would wish for that, too, but it can't really be helped.

It had gotten silent at the table while Kurt's hands entwined with Blaine's under the table as he rubbed small circles into the much smoother ones. Kurt watched and saw Blaine's face soften, the hard features ebbing away. Kurt could tell he was put on-edge by this news. Still, it was all the way in California, thousands of miles away, right? There was no way they could disrupt their perfect piece of each other, right?

Kurt could do nothing but let the sinking feeling in his gut settle and dwell there.

"God, how could that wife do that?" Mercedes said, finishing her coffee and chewing on her straw.

"What?" Kurt asked, not wanting to seem too curious or defensive.

"Be like that, love somebody like that. She has some freaky mojo, too? She sounds like a terrible human being if she can wake up everyday and be able to have a husband who freakin' eats people and, like, remove pain from her body. For all we know, she may just be tripping out. Right, Kurt?" Mercedes glanced up at him.

Kurt contained the urge to scream at her in anger and cry out of sorrow. How dare she? She questions all of the love and unearthly bonds gone into a relationship like that? A sting carried in her words. To her, and to society, having a gift was an abomination, to be feared, no revered. This was the reason why Kurt never allowed anyone to find out about his power. Every negative words hurtled him back to that day when he was shoved by the boys, just for being different. Kurt let all this flicker through his mind before muttering a calm "for sure." Blaine showed no signs of distress, but would shoot a slightly worried glance his way. Kurt only clasped his fingers tighter around the ones that mirrored his so perfectly.

None of the others took much notice, quickly changing topic as normal teenagers do, allowing Blaine and Kurt to silently dwell on the news.

The two boys nodded to each other and Kurt quickly spouted some reason for the both of them to leave. Their friends murmured their goodbyes, thought they did seem a bit perplexed as to why they were leaving so early into their coffee date. At the moment, Kurt didn't care, and he let out a strangled and exhausted breath once they had gotten into the Blaine's car. Blaine closed his eyes a moment, letting his forehead rest against the steering wheel while Kurt began to ramble.

"Oh man, Blaine what the hell do we do? They're bound to find us. We'll be found out and that'll be it! Everyone will hate us, for sure. Did you see how they reacted? And how they would only see me as a . . .freak! I'd be the dirty secret of the town, and everyone would know! Blaine! We need to get out of here, we'll keep driving, it'll be fine-"

"Kurt, shut up," Blaine said, pulling the blabbering boy in for a messy kiss. Kurt relaxed slightly, which allowed Blaine to drive out onto the road and away from the prying eyes of people.

"Kurt, calm down. I know you're scared-"

"A severe understatement," Kurt breathed.

"-But that was California, Kurt. They won't be expecting another case like this for what, maybe another year? Everyone's forgotten about Rachel, and they can't find Karofsky. They probably won't." Blaine sounded very certain of all of those things, and even put on a good smile for Kurt, insisting that they should choose to have a special "weekend alone." While that did sound nice, not having to worry about the intense weight on his shoulders that was his powers and the fear of someone finding out, Kurt still couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling to stay aware. There would also be the problem of convincing his father to let him go away with Blaine for a couple days. That would be another battle to fight.

* * *

><p>Timothy Winthrop shifted his Jeep into drive, pulling out onto the road from his spot across from Kurt and Blaine. A pair of dark sunglasses framed his stern and unrelenting features. An overcoat cloaked his body from the cooling autumn weather as he watched the two teens drive away. Within a matter of moments, Blaine and Kurt were out of sight, lost in the sea of traffic. Timothy bristled at the thought of losing his target, but soon relaxed as something buzzed in his pocket. He answered his silenced phone with a carefree ease.<p>

"Winthrop…yes, I've got them. Don't be ridiculous, I've figured out worse than a couple of teenage _kids_…I'll let you know when…yes, goodbye," Winthrop ended the call, containing the urge to grin wickedly. Rarely did he have a game this fun, and he felt pleasure thrum through him at the thought of the teenagers wide-eyed and squirming by his hand. He drove on, fantasies clouding in his mind.

* * *

><p>"I've already said it, no means no!" Burt exasperated to his son, a determination to keep his son safe becoming obvious in his stare.<p>

"Dad, come on. It's just a couple of days, other Warblers will be there, and Blaine's parents will watch us for the whole weekend, no problems," Kurt fought back the knot in his stomach from spouting such a lie. He loved his dad, but Burt would lock him in his room for the next millennia if he knew what Blaine and Kurt were wanting to talk about and do. He contained the urge to shiver at what would happen, instead staring up into the reddening face of his father. He would not back down. Rarely did Blaine and himself have time to talk and be alone, when everyone was going to school and concentrating on actually graduating. The classes were getting tougher and the teachers were pushing for more intense rubrics, and Kurt just needed a break from it all. He had already done his homework for the weekend, and all of that hard work would not go to waste.

"Dad, please? This is, like, our only time together, and I really want to have some experiences before I graduate," Kurt was trying to hit hard.

"You got to go out with Blaine a lot over the summer, plenty of late nights. It's true you boys were always back just when I wanted you to-"

"Then you'll let me go?"

Burt sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright, fine, go have your overnight stay, but be back on Saturday night, no later."

Kurt wrapped his father in a quick embrace, going to go and pack his bag. It was Thursday night, so Kurt would be picked up by Blaine after school and taken to Blaine's very empty and very parentless home. Kurt tried to ignore the lie he'd told, and instead focused on all of the good times Blaine and him would have over the weekend. Just thinking about it made him quiver with opened the top drawer of his dresser, and pulled out the gleaming piece of brass that was his locket from Blaine. Just looking at it and touching the smooth surfaces left Kurt with a feeling of something solid and concrete in this world. Even if something were to go wrong, and the total of Kurt's life would be upturned, he knew that he would help and stand by Blaine until their end. This fact scared him, nonetheless, and he only cradled the trinket closer to his heated chest.

* * *

><p>Blaine was anxious, and becoming pissed off by the minute. Kurt was supposed to meet him after their last class and then Blaine would whisk him away for a weekend of just themselves. He had been careful, and had decided to give Kurt a break from having him come with to the barn. After finding out about the cannibal in California, he had attempted to cut down on his intake of victims. The reports in the papers were indeed getting fewer, but he didn't want any more bodies to appear and for half of the country to have their eyes on the small community in Ohio. Blaine checked his watch, getting into his car and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel impatiently.<p>

Kurt was just leaving his Economics class, passing through throngs of classmates as they all left for the weekend. All he needed to do was get out of the building and he could follow Blaine in his car to the Warbler's home. He walked as fast as he could, trying not to jostle other kids as he took hallways that would get him out of the building faster. He was walking so fast, and was so deeply in thought, that he didn't notice the other person whipping through a doorway. The two collided, sending a few papers flying and Kurt slumped against the wall.

"Oh my, I'm so sorry!" Kurt said, groaning a little and looking up at the older man. Kurt had never seen him before, and assumed that he might be a new teacher. The man had short, croppy brown hair with glinting green eyes that looked like they had flecks of gold and hazel in them. A small amount of scruff roughed his chin and cheeks. He was a few inches taller than Kurt, and was dressed in a pair of slacks and a white button-down. The man stepped back awkwardly, picking up the papers on the floor.

"I'm sorry, my fault for not looking," the man said, handing Kurt some of his papers. Kurt took them gratefully, not looking at them.

"It's fine. Um, I don't think I know you. Are you a new teacher?" Kurt asked, furrowing his brow.

The man shook his head, "Yeah, I transferred from New Jersey. The name is Michael Burgh, Mr. Burgh. I'm teaching Communications for a few terms. And you are?"

"Kurt, Kurt Hummel. I may be in your class this year," Kurt said, looking through the papers he'd been given. Some weren't his.

"Oh! Those are mine," Mr. Burgh said, snapping out his hand and yanking the papers across Kurt's hand, slicing the boy's hand in clean paper cuts. Kurt winced as a small amount of blood welled from the wound. The teacher gasped, grabbing Kurt's hand and investigating.

"I am so, so sorry!" the older man exasperated.

"No, no, it's fine," Kurt snatched his hand away, hiding the healing wounds away in his blazer-sleeve.

"Alright, I am sorry, though. I should be getting on to my classroom, nice to meet you, Mr. Hummel," Mr. Burgh said, extending his hand for a handshake.

"You as well, Mr. Burgh," Kurt said, grasping his hand briefly and giving a small shake. Mr. Burgh looked down to Kurt's hand for a moment, noticing the almost healed wounds. A small frown flashed across his features.

"I thought your wounds were a bit worse than that. Good thing they aren't that bad," Mr. Burgh gave a small smile, turning on his heel and leaving down the hallway in the opposite direction.

Kurt had felt the panic seep into his blood, pounding and making his breathing short. As he was left alone in the corridor, he quickly made his way through the now empty school.

'_That was way too close,' _Kurt thought, exiting and looking for his vehicle.

'_He didn't suspect, did he?' _Kurt quickly spotted his car, and then saw Blaine's car next to it, his boyfriend wearing an irked expression.

'_No, he didn't say anything that would imply that,' _Kurt thought, greeting Blaine with a small kiss.

'_It was nothing.'_

* * *

><p>Mr. Burgh, or Timothy Winthrop, rounded another corner, the papers gripped in his hands so tightly he feared they would become torn or ripped. He loosened his tie, taking out his cell phone and dialing the only number in the address book.<p>

"Hey…yes, it's me…I'm positive, this case is worth the effort."

Timothy hung up, stowing away the device and exiting the building through a back staircase. He broke into a run, covering the grounds in a matter of minutes. He vaulted over the fence in one leap. With the blood pounding in his ears, he let out a small laugh. He was so very close, the end was in sight.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Reviews and all that jazz are greatly appreciated! Love and hugs to all of you!**


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